


I Hear You're A Transphobe Now, Father

by Derryzumi



Category: Father Ted
Genre: I Killed Him, Trans rights, not only is the author dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24701044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Derryzumi/pseuds/Derryzumi
Summary: I wrote this as a gift for a friend after the last time Graham Linehan went off spouting some Terf nonsense. He's done it again, so now it's going public, and Graham can gargle my dick and balls!Father Ted Crilly finds out that Father Dougal McGuire has made some interesting new friends, and doesn't approve because he's a dry shite.
Kudos: 16





	I Hear You're A Transphobe Now, Father

Father Ted Crilly sat on the couch of the Craggy Island Parochial House with an expression on his face that seemed to be the midpoint between confusion, anger and grim determination. In his hands were the source of his frustration; a fresh newspaper, turned to the crossword. Ted threw the paper down in disgust.  
“Ah, it's no good!” he snapped, brow furrowed. “This bloody thing is rigged!”  
“What bloody thing, now, Father?” came the inquisitive voice of Mrs. Doyle, bringing in some tea as per usual for Ted and Father Jack.   
“This crossword, Mrs. Doyle-” Ted exhaled, whiteknuckling his pen as he stared down at the paper with the distaste of a small child that just saw his mam bringing out the boiled lettuce for dinner. “It just doesn't make sense! I need a seven letter word that means an organization that uses people's money to benefit others, and nothing fits! God, look,” he jabbed at the paper with his pen. “Syndicate, mafia, cartel; sure, nothing fits! They're trying to catch me out!”  
“Charity, father?” Mrs Doyle suggested.   
“Ah now, I don't think that-” Ted started, before stopping, and glancing down at the paper and deflating a little. “Oh,” he grumbled, folding his arms.   
“Be glad you managed to get to it before Father Dougal,” Mrs. Doyle forced a cup of tea into Jack's limp hand. “By now, he'd have tried solve the word search like it was a maze!”   
“Yeah,” Ted chuckled. “Actually, now, where is Dougal?” he asked, face growing concerned for a second.   
“Oh, I think he went down to a community event down in town today!” Mrs. Doyle looked up at Ted, scuttering over. “He said something about it being a way to solve a real mystery.”   
“Well, hopefully, he's back, soon. I don't want him staying out too late, you know.” Ted nodded to himself.

As if on cue, Father Dougal McGuire burst in through the door.   
“Hullo, queens!” He beamed. Ted's jaw dropped as he stared at Dougal, who was wearing some particularly unorthodox wear, even for a Catholic Priest. The man was wearing shutter shades, which was hard enough to take in on its own; but more shockingly, he wore a collection of pins on his lapel, each displaying different LGBT+ pride flags.   
“Dougal!” Ted yelped in dismay, like some sort of shitty old bitch. “What do you think you're doing?”  
“Eh, I'm tryin’ out new slang I learned today.” Dougal bounced a little on the spot. “I hope it's not going to-” he paused. “Slay you!” Dougal whipped, but badly. Ted looked like he was perhaps experiencing an aneurysm.   
“What's going on?” Ted stood up, his hands on his hips. “What kind of bloody mystery ends up with you dressed like…” he paused, his cowardice preventing him from saying what he meant. “Like that?”  
“Well, Ted, see now-” Dougal took off his cool as hell sunglasses. “I heard that Maureen from down at the store has been struggling with money and suffered a break in the other day.” There's a pause for the laugh track. “And I saw all these posters with rainbows on them, and I knew immediately what it meant.”  
“Yes?” Ted ushered him on, in honest to God shock that Dougal was a real person and not some fictional parody of reality, perhaps one you could write fanfiction about at 3am.  
“It means there's a leprechaun on the loose!” Dougal beamed as the laugh track blared out. “And somewhere, there's a pot of gold sitting at the end of one of those rainbows is a pot of gold, and I'm going to bring it back to Maureen!”  
“Dougal!” Ted yelped, grabbing at his own head. “Could you be more of an offensive Hibernophobic stereotype?”   
“I dunno, Ted,” Dougal blinked obliviously. “Could I?” The Laugh Track goes wild. Ted stood there in disbelief. Alright now, Father. Alright. Slowly but surely, he started to get a grip on the situation.  
“Dougal,” he began. “You went to this… event, the one the posters were advertising?”  
“Yeah, I did, Ted.”  
“And the people there gave you these…” Ted gestured at the pins and sunglasses and generally swaggy aesthetic of his way cooler friend. “Gifts?”  
“Yeah, they did, Ted.”  
“Do you know what the event was, Dougal? Do you know what the pins represent?”  
“Yeah, I do, Ted?”  
“Do you?”  
“Eh-” Dougal reconsidered. “No, Ted, not at all.” Ted rubbed at his face in frustration.   
“Dougal,” he exhaled. “That was a Gay Pride event. You're wearing all sorts of… L and G and BT pins.”  
“Oh, right so.” Dougal blinked.  
“Do you know what that means?” Ted inquired.  
“Yeah, I do T-” Dougal started, before stopping. “No, I've no idea, to be honest now, Ted.” Ted inhaled and exhaled.   
“Well, LGBT people are- you see, they-” Ted struggled. He didn't want to look like a piece of shit, but perhaps that ship had already sailed. He looked around for help, locking eyes with Mrs. Doyle. “Mrs. Doyle, you tell him.” He prompted.  
“Well see now, Father,” Mrs. Doyle scuttled over from the corner she'd been hiding in. “The LGBT community is a group term for anyone who doesn't count as heterosexual- that is to say, a man attracted to a woman or vice versa- or cisgender, identifyin’ as the gender you were designated at birth. The acronym stands for Lesbians, women who love women, Gays, men who love men, Bisexuals, people attracted to two or more genders, and Transgender, people who identify as a different gender to what they were given at birth. It also includes people like Asexuals- attracted to no gender- and Pansexuals, which is I suppose the opposite, which has many similarities to Bisexu-” Mrs. Doyle stopped, glancing around the room. Ted and Dougal were both staring at her, gobsmacked. “What?” She asked. “I'm well read.”  
“Oh, uh, and it's a sin.” Ted coughed. I hope to God the cough is the first sign of some sort of plague that's extremely painful and lethal. “And we don't like priests committing sins, now do we?”  
“But what about Father Jason and his clerical abuse scandal?” Dougal protested, holding onto his pins fearfully. “Or Father Dick Johnson, who helped with the Laundries? Or-”  
“Dougal!” Ted snapped. “You're a Catholic priest, and you've a responsibility to act like one! We can't have a member of the Craggy Island Parochial House turn up to gay pride, people might get notions! You'll simply have to go back and tell everyone there that you're not into men. Do you understand me?”  
“Ughhhhh,” Dougal whined. “Right, so, Father.” And with a doleful look, he stumbled out of the room and back out the door, throwing his swaggy shutter shades to the floor in protest. As he left, Mrs. Doyle looked up at Ted with a slightly :/ face.   
“Father- that wasn’t particularly tolerant of you, was it now?”  
Ted huffed, going back to his crossword. “Look, I just know when one of these little things is going to go into a big old jape. I’ll have none of it. I don’t care if the common layperson is gay, straight or Lebonese,” he makes wide gestures as if his stupid shit idiot fungus brain is slowly melting, which would be a good thing, “But a Catholic Priest shouldn’t be worrying about any of that!”

The Craggy Island LGBTQA Society sat upon a hill not far from the coast. Despite being a pretty shitty little structure, the clubsfolk make it work, due to gay people being extremely fucking good at everything. Father Dougal walked up the path to the house, hands in his pockets, experiencing what his poor little heart wasn’t quite capable of recognizing as him being pretty wrathful towards the shuddering pile of tadpoles known to some as Ted Crilly. Dougal walked to the door and gave it a knock, and a smiling person opened the door.   
“Ah, hello, Father!” they smiled. It was, of course, Eggs McConnel, the vice-president of the Craggy Island LGBTQA Society. A tall, dark skinned one with bright green hair, cool runners, and absolutely NO interest in the scam colloquially called “gender”. “How are you holding up now? Glad to see you back so soon after your last visit!”  
“Eh, now, not too bad, Eggs,” Dougal chuckled, with a hint of sadness to his voice. “I’ve been sent to have a word with you now,”  
“Oh yeah?” Eggs leads Dougal in. The Society Building was a lot cosier on the inside than the out. The main chillout room had a load of throw pillows and bean bags around. A cute butch is making a cup of tea in the attatched kitchen area.   
“Aw, hey, Dougal!”  
“Hullo, Beth,” Dougal waves.  
“You here to get some more pins?”  
“No, sorry, lads,” the best character in the show exhaled. GOD he wished he could get some more pins.  
“Then what are y’here for?” Beth came over, handing Dougal a cup of tea.  
“Well, see,” Dougal inhaled. “I went home and talked to Ted, yeah, and he said to come back here and tell you all…” he bit his lips and glanced over the two cool gays here. “I’m not into men!”  
“Oh, yeah?” Eggs took a cup too, sipping on it. “That’s grand.”  
Dougal blinked. Being weaned on the teats of the Catholic Church makes you a slut for punishment, so he had been expecting Eggs to like, curse him to never grow figs again or something. To be honest, he never actually read much of the Bible, it had too many scary parts.  
“I mean, I figured as much.” Eggs shrugged.  
“How do you mean that?” Dougal asked, a stupid grin spreading onto his face.  
“Well, see- are you into women either?”  
“God, no, Eggs, women wouldn’t be for me at all.” Dougal chuckled. The last time he saw a woman naked, he almost got killed by a bomb, so… didn’t really enforce any attraction.  
“Well then, it’s clear.” Eggs gave Dougal a friendly punch on the arm. “You’re an asexual, Dougal.”  
“I’m a what?”  
“An asexual.”  
“But… but I’m just Dougal!”  
“Well, just Dougal,” Eggs tilted his head. “Do you ever find yourself experiencing a lack of physical or romantic attraction to others?”  
“I mean, yeah, but doesn’t everyone?” Dougal piped.  
“Nope.” Beth smiled, sitting down beside Dougal. “I myself am Bisexual, so I’m attracted to men, women and nonbinary folk.”  
“Yeah, it’s kinda why I was loading the asexual merch on you,” Eggs noted as he pointed out the purple rainbow scheme on some of Dougal’s pins.   
“But- but Ted said I couldn’t be a part of this, Dougal pouted. “The Church won’t allow it!”  
“Doesn’t the Church want you to not go out havin’ boyfriends or girlfriends anyway?” Beth inquired.  
Dougal was quiet for a second as he did the mental maths in his head. It took him… more than a little while. Like, damn, bitch, you think like this? After about a solid 30 seconds of thinking hard and a face journey that would make skateboarding down the alps look stable, Dougal’s face lights up.  
“I’M ASEXUAL!” he cheered!

A few days had passed. Dougal had very smugly decorated his living space with ace merch, and there was NOTHING that Ted could do about it. Ted, of course, was fuming about this, because he was a snake passing itself off as a man.   
“I just don’t like it!” Ted groaned as he paced around the couch. “I know it’s technically fine by the Church, but… pride? We shouldn’t be proud of that. We should be bitter and resentful of our celibacy, not proud of it! That’s how we’ve done it for centuries now!” the dumb sack of rat piss that’s started to leak reasoned out loud. The comparison of aseuxality to catholic celibacy is another reason Ted is the worst character in this fic. Asexuals can and do fuck, you ignorant shit. But anyway, back to the story, yeah?  
“What do you make of this, Mrs. Doyle?” Ted looked up. There was no reply. Fear started to crawl over him as he went looking about for her. “Mrs. Doyle?” Eventually, he found something. A note from Mrs. Doyle. 

Out with friend,  
Be back later.  
-Joan

Who the fuck is Joan?

Ted took a second to ponder over that, before realizing that it must be Mrs. Doyle’s canonical name.   
“Oh, eh, right so,” he quietly made his way back into the living room.   
“Mrs. Doyle is out, so, Jack,” Ted looked over to the armchair, only to realize it’s empty. “..?” he took a moment. “Jack’s out too…” he took another moment, wringing his hands together. And so was Dougal. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t normal. He was alone in the Craggy Island Parochial house. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He looked around, and his idle, idle hands… they were tempted to sin.  
“Feck it anyway,” Ted took out a cigarette and took a drag from it, indoors and all. His biological clock ticked ever so slightly faster. “I’ve to do something about all this… ace sexuality lark.” Ted went over to the chair and pulled out a shitty old box computer. “I’m going to go on the line for some help.” he declared to nobody in particular, not that anyone would really care about his shitty plans. And so, Derry Luttrell was forced to write that Father Ted Crilly went to Twitter Dot Com. Hovering over the search bar, he clicked and typed “ANTI-LGBT PEOPLE” and wormed his way through the replies, til he found a load of people discussing one particularly rambunctious homophobe.   
“Ah, perfect,” Ted smiled. “I’ll invite this man over to talk about it to Dougal, and I’m sure he’ll be able to set him straight.” And with that, the crust-stain in a black collar sent a message.

A few days later, Ted stood out by the docks- that is to say, singular, wooden dock- at the edge of Craggy Island. Nobody else had really come home since, except Mrs. Doyle, to pick up a flannel shirt or something. This was unironically Ted’s first social interaction since Dougal had discovered he was ace and then ditched the Parochial house. A boat whirred out to shore, and a man stood up.

“Hey, Ted, nice to finally meet you face to face.” the greasebag standing in front of him shook Ted’s hand. “I’m Graham Linehan, creator of the TV Shows Father Ted and the IT Crowd.”   
The laugh track was silent. Nobody in the crowd liked this guy.   
This conversation has a TW for transphobia, aphobia, and Graham Linehan.  
Ted took a beat to ignore the fourth wall break. “Ah, Graham, good to see you. I’m really hopin’ you’ll be able to help us with this problem!”  
“Oh, of course, Ted. You’ve come to the best man you could have come for to help with this. Nobody’s a better feminist than me.”  
“Well, yes, but I didn’t ask you to be here to help with feminism-”   
“No, indeed, Father. Not even women get women’s problems as well as I do.” Graham laughs, ignoring the amount of times in his shows he’s portrayed women's rights activists as harsh, evil women. Even in Father Ted! Remember that?  
“Wonderful stuff, so! You’re well equipped, then, to help with the-”  
“The trans problem, yes.”  
There’s a beat. Ted’s eyes did that widening thing.  
“Ah, no, actually, I- I was hoping you could help with something-”  
“You mentioned in your message you had some undesirable LGBT stuff going on, and of course, I know what you mean.” Graham, the little shitstain he was, put a big firm hand on Ted’s shoulder. “The only undesirable part of the LGBT community is the T.”  
Even Ted was a little blown back by this. “W-”  
“Yes, Father, I know. I bet you’ve got one of those transgenders on the island even now, making all the women here uncomfortable.”  
“N-”  
“No, Father, I hear you loud and clear. I think all women should be allowed to be comfortable, but,” and here’s a quote! “Some people have a seriously held belief that trans women are literally women. So if someone who identifies as a woman is attracted to a woman, they are considered a lesbian.”  
“Well, I suppose, if you’re a woman who likes women, you would be, but that’s not actually-”  
“No no, Father, I understand you. And I agree. I might be a straight cisgender male, but I’m MUCH more well informed than anyone in the LGBT community. I think though that the modern trans movement is full of,” and here’s another quote! “a mixture of grifters, fetishists, and misogynists”.  
“Ah, even to me, that hardly seems fair- I don’t disagree with them, I just don’t think-”  
“No, no, Father. These “self-diagnosing” transgenders are ruinin’ the LGBT movement, so I’ve come here to help you shout at them and make their life worse, just like you wanted.”  
Ted was starting to feel a twinge of guilt. “I dunno, now, Graham, this just feels- wrong, somehow. Here on our turf-”  
“TERF IS A SLUR.” Graham snapped, suddenly filled with fury.   
“Wh-”  
“DON’T EVEN CALL ME THAT, NOW, FATHER. DON’T. IT’S A SLUR.”  
“What i-”  
“I KNOW. I KNOW WHAT IT STANDS FOR. IT’S A SLUR. YOU’RE ATTACKING GOOD FEMINISTS LIKE MYSELF. DON’T EVEN USE THAT WORD.” He’s gone on record saying this in real life.  
Ted was now cowering away from Graham. “I-I’m sorry?!”  
“Why did you ask me here if not to shout at transgenders.”   
“Oh, I was- I was wondering if you could help convince my friend to stop using the asexual label-”  
“Ah. Asexuals. Those bastards who aren’t actually gay enough to have a say in the community.”  
“B-but you, as a straight white cisgender man, do?”  
“Yes.”  
“That seems-”  
“Look, think of it this way,” Graham Linehan exhaled. “If I was wrong- surely God would send a sign to you that I was, right? And he hasn’t. So I’m right.”  
“I-I suppose so,” Ted started.  
“Right so, let’s-”

AND THEN GRAHAM LINEHAN WAS STRUCK BY LIGHTNING. IT’S THE DAMNEDEST FUCKING THING. IT WAS A CLEAR DAY, AND ALL OF A SUDDEN, HE WAS STRUCK BY LIGHTNING.   
“Feck!” Ted jumped a foot back. “I- Graham?!” he starts. “Is- Is this the sign from God?” he paused. “No, surely not. A coincidence, only. I-”  
AND THEN GRAHAM WAS STRUCK BY ANOTHER, SECOND BOLT OF LIGHTNING.  
“Oh, Jesus! Maybe it’s- the electricity in the air, causing him to get struck-”  
ANOTHER FOUR CONCURRENT BOLTS OF LIGHTNING.   
“Oh, God-”  
AND THEN TO PROVE IT WASN’T JUST LIGHTNING, A ROCK FALLS FROM THE SKY, CRUSHING HIM INSTANTLY.

Ted stood in the hospital over the disheveled husk of Graham Linehan. He looked up at the doctor with a sadness in his eyes.  
“So… at least it was painless, yeah? I mean, if the first lightning bolt killed him instantly, at least he didn’t suffer,”   
“Oh, no, I’m afraid not.” the doctor shook her head. “Actually, it seems he was only killed by the falling rock.”   
“So he was-”  
“Alive for all six lightning strikes, yes.”  
Ted looked a little ill as he sat down.  
“So it was actually very excruciating, and he felt every instant of it,” the doctor shrugged. She stood up, continuing by stating “We’ve also figured out he was the one committing the break-ins around Craggy Island, not that anyone really cared. Apparently his talentless hack writing was getting him nowhere, so he had to turn to a slightly more respectable trade.” she turned before going to a medical cabinet and pulling out a sample of a liquid and dousing Graham Linehan.  
“W- what was that?” Ted looked over.  
“A urine sample.”   
“Why did you just- sprinkle it on him?”  
“For good luck. Would you like to piss on his corpse too, Father? It’ll make you feel much better about yourself.”  
Ted was quiet for a moment, before sighing. “You know what, I’ll be grand, thanks.” he stood up, and started walking over to the door. “I think I’ve to go talk to a friend”  
“Right so,” the doctor shrugged, before turning to her nurse. “Bring in the Wolfhound. I hope you’ve given it plenty of water to drink, because it’s going to need to piss pretty hard on this guy.”

Ted stood in front of the Craggy Island LGBTQA Society House. He took a second to gather his thoughts, before entering in, ready to have a talk with Dougal, and more importantly, to put this all behind him. He pushed the door open, and there he saw Mrs. Doyle making out with another woman.

“MRS. DOYLE?!” Ted yelped in surprise.   
“Father!” Mrs. Doyle jumped too.  
“Ted?!” Dougal poked his head around the door.  
“Eggs,” Eggs poked their head around the other side of the door.   
“Mrs. Doyle, who’s that you’re shifting?!” Ted babbled.  
“Well, see-” Mrs. Doyle looked at the other woman- about her age with black, curly hair, who cleared her voice instead.  
“I’m Mrs. Doyle,” the new lady announced.  
“What!” Ted gargled.   
“You never asked who my spouse was, Father,” Mrs. Doyle noted, kicking the dust a little. “This is her.”   
“You’re- you’re a lesbian?” Ted held a hand to his head.  
“Well, yes, I s’pose.” OG Doyle nods.   
“We’ve been married for 33 years now, Father,” New Doyle shrugged. “I’ve been off working in America, but when I heard about the new LGBT society here on the Isle, sure I had to visit.”  
“So-” he swiveled, pointing at Eggs. “If you’re the Vice President,” Ted swiveled back to Mrs. Doyle 2, “Then you must be-”  
“Ah, no, I’m only visiting.” The second Doyle shrugs. “I’m not the President, no.”  
“Then-” Ted starts, stops, and points at Beth in the back. “YOU!”  
“Nope. I’m just a pastel-goth butch, not a president butch.”  
“Then who is?” Ted put his hands on his hips.  
Suddenly, the door in the back of the room CRASHED open, and out stumbled what initially appeared to be a living tumbleweed, but upon closer inspection, proved to be none other than Father Jack Hackett. He reared his head back, took a deep inhalation, and then roared out a single phrase for all to hear.  
“TRANS RIGHTS!”   
Ted doubled back from the Fus Roh Dah echoing from the elderly priest.  
“Ted, what are you even doing here?” Dougal tilted his head. “I thought you were back home, chilling like a queen.”  
“That’s not how you use that phrase,” Eggs tried. Emphasis is on tried, as Dougal just kinda… stared at him with a vacant look in his happy eyes.  
“No, I’m- I was here for you initially, Dougal, but I’m here for you all now!” Ted put his hands on his hips. “I just think all of this is ridiculous! All these- these labels! Trans? Ace sexual? Lesbian? Sure, what will they come up with next!” He spewed the vitriol much like an anus spews hot diarrhea after eating too much spicy food. “We’re all made the way god intended- and we’re all made the same. Sure, doesn’t everyone experience attraction towards men and women equally?”  
“...” everyone was silent, glancing at each other, before turning their heads back to Ted and shaking them.  
“...” Ted took a moment. “Really? You don’t look at pictures of Mary and Joseph and think they’re both, well, you know… equally beautiful..?” Everyone shook their head a little faster. “But- but I-” Ted tried.  
Suddenly, a hand was plopped onto Ted’s shoulder. It was Egg’s. And they were smiling.  
“I hear you’re a Bisexual, now, Father.”


End file.
